A Little Vitamin C
by singingstarryknights
Summary: Apples he could live with. Oranges he loathed. Part of the First Kiss Series.


A Little Vitamin C

…

Apples he could live with. Oranges he loathed.

…

Part of the First Kiss Series

…

Danny Messer hated winter.

The snow, the carols, the crisp air. And he hated black ice, and any temperature below 40 degrees, and how fast Christmas crept up on him, and the packed malls, and the packed subway, and the packed streets. One could easily draw the conclusion that he, Detective 3rd Grade Dante Giovanni Messer, hated winter.

He especially hated winter for the produce selection it merited. That was when the oranges were in season. By themselves, oranges were not so fantastic. Stifling uncreative name, silky film that never came off your hands once they were peeled, seeds everywhere, and the scent hung in the air for days. It was just a bad idea. He preferred apples, really. The peeling issue wasn't really a problem; he just ate the skin. And he always tossed the core before it turned brown. Easy eating, easy clean up. Apples he could live with.

Oranges he _loathed._

As Lindsay Monroe peeled an orange in their office, he cringed, the citrus smell assaulting his senses, distracting him from the report he was compiling. He was ready to argue that that horrible excuse for a fruit was not going to be consumed in his office, it was going to reek of orange into next week.

"You're killin' me, Montana." He didn't look up from his notes, groaning as he got a whiff of the tangy crisp scent.

"A little vitamin C hardly kills anyone, Messer. Quite the opposite." He threw her a glare over the rims of his glasses, making her smile. "What've you got against vitamin C?"

"Nothing. I got a thing about oranges."

"Really." Lindsay drawled out, leaning back in her chair, and arching an eyebrow at him. She kicked her feet up onto the edge of her desk, pulling a section of orange apart. "That's too bad." She smiled innocently, and popped a section into her mouth.

"Seriously, Monroe." He tried to sound intimidating, but she rolled her eyes.

"It's just an orange, Dan. Relax." She turned her attention to the report in front of her, propping up her notebook on her knee, and picking up another section of the orange.

"There's orange juice in the fridge in the break room-"

"And it's three months past its sell-by date. Besides, I like the real thing." He leaned back in his chair, bent on spilling out a smart remark, but came up with nothing but a slack jaw and a loss of vocabulary as he watched her take a bite of a piece of fruit.

Her lips pouted slightly around the pulp, her finger barely touching her lip as she sucked gently, her attention caught by something she had written out in the field. He watched her bite down, pull half away, chewing silently, scribbling something on to the report form, squinting at her own writing, swallowing gracefully. He shivered involuntarily as she pushed the other half of the section into her mouth, holding it between her teeth for just a moment, swirling the tip of her tongue around the exposed pulp as she narrowed her eyes at something from the testimony before sucking it in and chewing as she scribbled something else.

Whoa.

He felt a surge of heat run through his chest, and he swallowed hard, making an effort to reign in his self-control. He didn't notice Lindsay's gaze flicker briefly, taking in his momentary lapse in focus as he pursed his lips, coughing softly once before adjusting his frames on the bridge of his nose, choosing not to draw attention to his reaction.

Lindsay failed miserably at hiding the smirk she felt creeping up as she chewed, a faint blush tinge gracing her cheeks as he tossed up his pen in defeat, leaning on his elbows over the paperwork as it clattered to the floor. She was doing it on purpose. He took a shaky breath, fighting off the heat of arousal for the second time in as many minutes, willing the snug feeling in his jeans to disappear. She was torturing him.

"I'm on to you, Monroe."

"Just eating an orange, Messer."

Like hell she was.

"If that's how you eat an orange, I'm banning you from eating bananas." She broke into a genuine grin, laughing softly, despite the expression he had fixed her with, telling her he was anything but amused.

"Got a thing about potassium, too, Detective?" She arched an eyebrow at him defiantly.

"Definitely not." He leaned back casually in his chair, glancing around, relieved to see that the halls and labs were relatively clear. "Potassium, I think, requires dinner and drinks, though." She struggled to hide her grin, covering her smile with her hand, the heat in her cheeks increasing as she caught Danny's halfway cocky grin. The blue of his eyes had begun to darken gently, causing a sharp twinge of heat and pressure below her waist. "Pending you'll show."

If she wanted to tango, he'd spin her 'round the dance floor.

She only cast a seductive glance at him in retort, biting her bottom lip to hide her grin, turning back to her paperwork, feigning professionalism, meaning one thing.

_His move._

He took it slow; taking time to gather his thoughts, formulate a strategy. He, too, could exercise self-control in precision. Well, he could probably pull off appearances, anyway. He settled down to his report determinedly, reaching his goal of writing four whole, complete sentences before casually flicking open the button on his shirt. He smirked, his gaze fixed on the contents of his desk as he felt her eyes on him. It had been sheer luck he had worn an oxford shirt to work today, and silently he thanked whichever higher power decided that the only color in his size had been pale blue.

Lindsay sat back in her chair, no longer bothering to conceal her study of her partner, a softened smile garnishing her features. She loved that shirt, how it pleaded professional, but with every twist and stretch he made, she knew it would look better crumpled on the floor near her bed. The fleeting thought of what lay under that shirt curled up in her sheets was enough to make her fidget, fighting off the dull burn of want that had settled in her hips. Her eyes found the white of his undershirt hidden behind the soft blue of his shirt, clinging to his build and disappearing behind the third button, left clasped shut.

So he wanted to play. It was a slow shift, they had time. He glanced up at her, interrupting her thoughts, holding her gaze for a split second, breaking into a sly grin before turning back to his report. Damn. She'd been caught.

He tried to focus back on the report spread out before him, but his attention was rapt as her fingers picked up the last piece of the orange sitting innocently on her desk. She darted her tongue out, wetting her bottom lip before raising the next section to her mouth. She held it against her lip for a moment, writing something suddenly, tensing instantly and relaxing again into her chair, reading over her notes. She parted her lips, pulling the tip of the piece of orange into her mouth, wedging it loosely between her front teeth and her tongue for a few seconds before puckering her lips around it, and sucking it in. His muscles tensed, and Danny consciously restrained himself from clearing their desks and taking her right there, glass walls be damned.

"That's not playin' fair, Montana." She bit her lip, holding back a groan at the husky quality of his voice smothered in his heavy accent. "It could be construed as sexual harassment, even." He sat back, teetering casually with the recline of the office chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and fixing her with a teasing expression as she gave a short laugh.

"Says the man with the green tee shirt in his closet."

"What? It's cotton. Comfortable. Breathes." He grinned, sliding the frame of his glasses further up along his nose, turning his attention back to the file spread out before him. His grin faded into a concerned expression, his eyes narrowed and his lip curled into the faintest of smirks. "C'mere an' look at this, Montana." He began sifting through papers, hurriedly before squinting at a trace report.

"What? Tox?"

"No, the trace on the heel of the girlfriend's stiletto." He handed the sheet over to her as she rounded over to his desk, leaning against the drawers on his left, a few inches from his chair. He leaned on an arm on his desk, regarding her angled posture with a halfway professional glance as she read through the results, confusion etching across her delicate features.

"Compounds of titanium, aluminum, nickel-chrome alloy and gold?"

"Consistent with dental crowns."

"Kevin Greer was missing a crown, Sid said the dental records confirmed." She frowned at he results in her hand, sliding back effortlessly to sit on the corner of his desk. Lindsay lowered the paperwork, catching his eye. "She kicked him in the teeth?"

"More than that. Gauged out his palate with the heel, I think."

"She'd have to be high on something."

"Adam ran the tox." He squinted, turning to reach a form, giving her a glimpse of his side, soft blue of his shirt twisting with him, pulling out of his waistband only just as he handed it to her. He did his best to remain innocent as she fixed him with an incredulous smile, traces of amusement in the brown of her eyes. "What? Tox report."

"Pretty sly, city boy." Lindsay tossed the paperwork aside, landing it squarely on his desk as she arched an eyebrow at him, dissolving his innocent expression into a mischievous smirk.

"I got a coupl'a things up my sleeve."

"Yeah." She laughed softly, rolling her eyes. "A few muscles and a tattoo, Detective." Her tone was daring, challenging him to make a move, the sparkle in her smile calling his bluff.

"You're getting orange all over my desk, Monroe." He grinned, swiveling in his chair just enough to almost bump into her shin.

"Ah, yes, that's right. And you've got a thing about oranges." She flashed him a seductive smile as he nodded, the muscles in his arms tensing as she pushed a handful of curls over her shoulder, bracing her hands on the edge of the desk and leaning on them, the gentle swell of her chest outlined against her arm. He opened his mouth to speak, but the knock on the glass door interrupted him, and they both turned, stiffening as Adam poked his head in, twirling a pencil in his fingers.

"Hey, Lindsay, trace is back from the unmentionables in the Kennedy case." He watched Lindsay harden instantly into a determined cop, taking the report from Adam without moving from the desk, and smirked as she scanned the results.

"Unmentionables, huh?"

"Yeah. With tree sap in the crotch, apparently."

"That's…Kinky. Context?" He propped his head up with a hand as he watched her chew on her lip, searching the catalogue she had created in her memory of evidence she had collected.

"Nope. For now, it's just tree sap in the crotch. Actually, pinesap, from a spruce. And I'm maxed out on field hours, so I've got to wait for Flack."

"Ah. He's sittin' on the Gionelli Brothers with Angell. Could be a few hours."

"I got time." She sighed, tossing the report back onto her desk. He grinned at her teasing tone. She smirked, ready to continue the suggestive banter, but his features sobered, and he bit his lip, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze fix on the open file on her desk disinterestedly.

"I, ah." He took a moment, inhaling a steady breath, turning back to her with what he hoped looked like sincerity. "I don't want you to think that all this is just a game." He said quietly. "We have a history of less than stellar serious conversations, and I just want to get this out before we fall apart-" She halted his words in his mouth, placing a gentle hand along his jaw, pulling his gaze to meet hers.

Suddenly the joking and the flirting was pushed aside, and it was just them, there in the middle of the office. Her gaze flickered to his lips and she leaned down, delicately bringing her lips to his, kissing him softly before pulling away.

She surprised him. Never would he have thought that she would initiate a display of affection, never mind their first. Lindsay offered him a weak smile, and he licked his lip, tasting her still, even after their brief contact. Instinctively, he pulled her back, his fingers curling around the graceful slope of her neck, tangled in her curls. They crashed into each other, moving with a brand of familiarity that made their second kiss look like their thousandth. Danny tilted his head, deepening, taking charge.

Lindsay reached out, balling the front of his oxford shirt in her hand, pulling him out of the chair easily. He chuckled into her, sending a deep, amused laugh vibrating through her huskily, her fingers touching his goatee, making him shudder. He leaned his hip against the desk, groaning softly at the feel of her thigh against his leg. Danny broke away first, fixing her with a broad, boyish grin, the soft light from his desk lamp glittering warmly on the corner of his frames. He kissed her again, quickly, resting his forehead against hers, making the space of their somewhat Spartan office spark with intimacy. They were apples and oranges, him and Lindsay, and he couldn't help but laugh at the distinct tang of her kisses.

"You taste like oranges, Monroe."

…

Hadn't done a first kiss in a while… originally meant to be posted in January. Oops. Hope you liked!


End file.
